Justice ain't gonna dispense itself
by EpicClimax0
Summary: McCree has recently been taken into Overwatch and he still needs to prove that he's not just some thieving criminal anymore. Winston puts him on guard duty and who else shows up but the infamous purple sniper herself, Widowmaker. This is a short story I thought of and I thought I could write it and put it up, if you want more Overwatch just ask, I'm currently obsessed with it ;P
1. Chapter 1

"Guard duty?!" McCree retorted, "I mess up one time and all of a sudden y'all don't trust me anymore?"

Winston adjusted his glasses and calmly tried to explain the situation.

"Like I told you it's not guard duty" he sighed, "we received a tip that Talon is going to attack our defense systems. If they inject a computer virus into our mainframe then our shields will be useless, which would make us a huge target for our enemies."

Winston leaned in closer to meet McCree at eye level, "and in case you haven't noticed, Overwatch has a lot of enemies. You used to be one Jesse, but now that you're with us you have to follow orders," Winston explained.

McCree tipped his hat lower, "I follow orders just fine," he countered, "'specially when I knocked the wind out of those Talon soldiers. Y'all seemed pretty friendly when I did that, and now suddenly I can't be trusted again?" he asked.

Winston looked to the ground, almost in defeat, he himself trusted Jesse but the others didn't. They didn't see the possibilities of what he was capable of and fear clouded their minds when it came to proper judgement.

Winston shook his head, "you were too reckless on your last mission Jesse. This isn't guard duty; it's a test in patience."

McCree raised an eyebrow, "right, patience… so y'all still don't trust me," he stated.

Winston paused, McCree had been with Overwatch's recon group Blackwatch for about a month now. Yes, he was still reckless and stubborn but he had completed his missions. The problem was he used to be a criminal and many still saw him as one.

Winston clapped a hand onto McCree's shoulder and looked him square in the eye.

"For what it's worth Jesse I trust you," he said, "and if you do this the others will have an easier time warming up to you."

McCree lifted his head with a cocky smirk, "is that right? Well thank you kindly Winston, and it's worth plenty. Just wish I could gain their trust doing something other than guard duty," he grumbled.

Before Winston could insist that it "wasn't guard duty" McCree lifted up his hand and shook his head, "easy big guy, I'll still do it," he said.

"Not happy 'bout it, but I ain't got much choice now do I? Just make sure you put in a good word for me. Tell all your buddies that this gunslinger ain't a threat to 'em, not anymore," he said.

Winston blinked in surprise; he wasn't sure where this shift in attitude came from but for now he wasn't going to question it. He was just glad that McCree was willing to comply to orders for once.

"Very well," Winston smiled, "Thank you Jesse," he said.

As he was walking away McCree crossed his arms and shook his head.

"No big guy," he muttered to himself.

"Thank you."

That night McCree was where he said he would be, sitting on a desk chair in the heart of the defense tower, bored out of his mind. There was a giant screen with a bunch of codes that he couldn't make heads or tails of. The computers lit up the room like fireflies, signalling the defense systems were still online and active. None of that was particularly exciting, so he spent most of his time looking out the window as he inhaled his cigar.

His mind wandered through his worries and fears whenever it got this quiet, and his contemplative trail of thought led him to the biggest fear he had. What he would do if Overwatch didn't trust him? Would he be regulated to sitting in computer rooms and being kept on a leash his entire life? Sounded a lot like prison to him, and he traded that fate for being an Overwatch operative in the first place. He figured if that was the case he could strike out on his own like old times, doing whatever he damn well pleased. Hell, he could do it right now. He smirked at the thought, admittedly it was a little tempting, but they'd be expecting that.

No he didn't want to run away, not this time. He blew some smoke out the window and watched it billow into the night sky. This time he wanted to prove them wrong. He was more than just a thieving scoundrel; he could stand next to those clean cut heroes with a gun in his hand and a grin on his face. Yeah, he thought as the smoke disappeared, he'd prove them wrong. If it meant sitting in a dark computer room staring out the window all night then by god he would do just that.

Suddenly, as he was watching that lazy smoke fade away, he caught sight of a figure off in the distance. That must've been the Talon operative. He smirked and flicked his cigar out the window, "took 'em long enough" he muttered.

Suddenly a grappling hook grabbed onto the ledge and he could see the dark figure hurdling towards the window at incredible speed.

Without a second to think Jesse darted into the shadows as the windows were riddled with bullets and the figure came bursting through the glass. McCree pulled out his peacemaker and grinned to himself "I thought this was a recon operation, Talon agents must be as dumb as they are ugly," he chuckled to himself.

He quickly rolled out of the corner and pointed his revolver at the mystery agent that had burst through the window. To his surprise it was a very attractive woman with purple skin and a ponytail. He did not expect that.

"Okay then… guess they're not all ugly," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

She flinched in surprise as she thought she was alone, and turned away from the computer monitor. Instinctively she aimed her rifle at him and narrowed her eyes. She looked at his attire and raised her eyebrow.

"You do not look like an Overwatch agent," she stated.

McCree chuckled and tipped his hat in greeting, "you don't look like a Talon agent either sweetheart, that don't change the facts," he replied.

She didn't react to his flirting, only held her ground in front of the monitor.

"You are not my target, drop your gun now and you can walk away unscathed." McCree gave a hearty chuckle at the thought of surrender.

"Darling, does this look like a water pistol to you?" he twirled his gun around his finger. "When I draw this lil' beauty out I intend to use it, 'specially against terrorists like you," he sneered.

The woman smiled, "you are dressed as a criminal and yet you insult me for being a terrorist," she gave a small laugh. "That is how they say, the pot calling the kettle black no?"

McCree lifted up his chin and took a step closer, "I'm not good, I'm not bad… but I sure as hell ain't ugly," he flashed a smile, "and being a terrorist… now that's uglier than a bovine's backend."

The woman didn't seem fazed by the comment; in fact she seemed excited at the prospect of fighting him. That excitement did set McCree on edge, but he ignored the chill running down his spine. He had tousled with worse, and this woman would be no different from any other fight. He had something to prove, and he hoped that the security cameras were getting his good side.

"Then," the woman smiled "you have sealed your doom, au revoir le étranger." As she was about to pull the trigger McCree was quicker to the draw and fired. There was a chink of metal but no one was harmed. It only took her seconds to realize what had just happened. McCree had deflected her shot with his own bullet. The move stunned her momentarily but she snapped back into action and switched to assault rifle mode.

As she was about to fire, McCree threw his flashbang and everything went white. He rolled into cover and smiled to himself at the impressive shot from earlier.

"If you're gonna kill me at least do it in English," McCree teased. He had positioned himself behind a pillar for cover as the smoke cleared. Her eyes darted everywhere to find him but he was completely hidden. She activated her goggles and finally saw his location.

"No one can hide from my sight," she whispered victoriously. She fired assault rifle rounds near him, but none of them hit. As she was about to reload, McCree fired a shot in her direction but she quickly grappled out of the way.

"You're pretty good at this dance darling, I can see why Talon likes you," McCree said following up with more rounds. She dodged them and launched a tube of poison gas by his feet.

The green gas sprayed everywhere and McCree was uncontrollably coughing and gagging through the poisoned air. The woman turned away from him casually walked to the computer monitor.

"The reason Talon likes me is because I am a highly trained assassin," she pulled out a purple usb drive with a skull on the side and inserted it into the computer. "You on the other hand, are a simple-minded thug." she flashed him a wicked grin as he was squirming and writhing on the floor. Suddenly a loading screen with a giant skull popped up as the system began downloading the virus.

McCree didn't know much about technology, but he knew that if that loading screen hit 100% his career in Overwatch would be worse than just guard duty. He desperately struggled to get on his feet, his vision was blurring and the poison didn't do his lungs any favours but he wasn't going to give up. In defiance he blindly fired at her, hoping for the best. She wasn't expecting him to recover so quickly and her surprise cost a bullet to her shoulder.

She touched the wound and felt the blood run down her fingers, she looked almost disappointed in herself rather than angry McCree thought. Then in a split second she launched her grappling hook at him and yanked his gun right out of his hands. Before he had a second to blink she quickly tossed his peacemaker away as if it was a piece of filthy trash.

His beloved peacemaker skidded so close to the edge of the window that it very nearly fell several stories down to the ground.

That was the last straw.


	3. Chapter 3

He was done with her tricks, and it was about time he played some of his own. He rolled towards her and lunged for her gun. He ended up pinning her to the ground as they started wrestling the rifle out of each other's grasp. McCree got the upper hand and chucked the weapon away, only he actually sent it flying out the window. The woman was about to grapple it back but he grabbed her arm and pushed her away.

"I ain't as simple-minded as ya think sweetheart," he lifted his fists up. "Let's settle this like gentlemen… figuratively speaking," he smirked.

The woman narrowed her eyes and went in for a punch. McCree grabbed her arm but she slid underneath his legs and flipped him onto his back. He rolled away from her follow up kick and put up his dukes once again in defense.

He had to pin her down somehow, he was stronger than her but she was more agile. McCree dodged her incoming kicks, each one more aggressive than the last. As she went into a powerful spinning kick McCree seized his chance and quickly took hold of her ponytail. He felt a little twinge of guilt doing so since he was used to fighting men, but a terrorist was a terrorist. He yanked her towards him, grabbed her arms and slammed her face against the wall in one fluid motion.

"You're not so tough without that gun now ain't ya?" he teased. The woman squirmed and tried to escape but McCree's grip was too strong. "So," he raised an eyebrow, "we haven't been properly introduced now have we? The name's McCree," he said. The woman huffed and rolled her eyes, "I do not care," she stated drily. McCree chuckled, "well you should, I'm the sheriff who's gonna arrest you."

The woman growled and tried even harder to escape but it was useless. "Whoa there, calm down missy, it's your own fault you're in this position," he said.

That remark made her stop squirming to McCree's surprise, and then she responded in a cold and haunting voice.

"No… it's not," she froze as if she was trying to remember something important, something just out of reach. McCree could see it in the way her eyes seemed to fade away.

Then as quickly as it happened she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, "à la vie, à la mort" she sneered. Suddenly she dug her heel into McCree's foot which made him flinch in pain, enough time to escape his grasp and kick him square in the jaw. McCree was sent flying quite a distance and landed right on his back; he held in his wince of pain.

"Now that was uncalled for," he muttered rubbing his face. He got up and before he could blink the woman kicked him right into a wall. He hit the back of his head hard as the room began to spin; everything was blurring and hazy as if he had too much to drink. The woman's heels clacked menacingly as she walked closer to him, but McCree didn't want to give up. "My name is Widowmaker," she said triumphantly, "the assassin who is going to kill you."

He had heard that name before, in frantic whispers back at headquarters as if it was taboo to speak of her. He wanted to give her a witty retort but his face hurt like hell and his back was killing him.

Yet, thinking about it now, those same hushed whispers were the same kind of reaction whenever his name was brought up at headquarters. Did that mean they thought he was just as bad as Widowmaker? Talon's cold blooded sniper goon that would kill anyone no questions asked? That thought made his blood boil.

Sure, he could admit he wasn't the most outstanding citizen out there but he was better than some heartless killer. He couldn't change the past but he was trying his hardest to make up for it, and yet they still saw him as some criminal scumbag? Why? What more did he have to do? Why did they even give him the offer if they didn't trust him?

The question pierced his mind like a stray bullet, and he was shocked he didn't ask himself sooner. He didn't belong here, what was he even trying to prove anyway? Why did he want to impress a bunch of goody two shoes heroes in the first place? Just for kicks? For his pride? None of those answers seemed right. Still, deep down McCree couldn't shake the urge to keep fighting. He needed to save Overwatch, even if he didn't know why he wanted to.

The woman chuckled as she walked over to grab his peacemaker, still next to the shattered window.

"You are not so tough without this gun either," she replied pointing it at him ready to fire. He lifted his head up and in his painful haze he saw something he thought was impossible. Instead of Widowmaker, the notorious assassin about to kill him with his own gun… he saw himself.

He saw the cold calculating look of someone who had nothing to live for, nothing to lose or gain, and just nothing in general. He used to have that same look, and thinking about it now he should have realized the obvious. Before she could pull the trigger he smiled at her, which made her pause in surprise. It wasn't a cocky smile or a defeated smile, no it was genuine and heartfelt. She blinked and slightly lowered the gun, "why are you happy? You are going to die," she stated.

McCree fell to his knees and nodded, "I know, you just made me realize something is all," he said. The woman raised her eyebrow at that, "and what would that be?" she asked. McCree slowly stood up and tipped his hat, "why I even bother." The statement made a strange kind of bliss wash over him. Widowmaker looked confused at his response but he didn't care, he didn't say it for her sake.

In an instant he whipped off his hat and flung it at her like a Frisbee. It knocked the gun out of her hand with a surprising amount of force sending her fumbling in shock. Without a moment to lose McCree found the strength to leap up and ram his fist right into her face. She reeled back but still tried to retaliate. McCree however quickly followed up by punching her wounded shoulder which sent her doubling back in pain.

As she cradled her shoulder McCree ran over to the computer and pulled out the usb drive, right when the loading screen was at 98%. He spat on it in disrespect which made Widowmaker widen her eyes in disgust. Then he threw it out the window.

She shakily inched herself towards his peacemaker that was on the ground but he kicked it away from her. "I think that's quite enough darling, stop trying to prove something," he said. She glanced up at him with venomous hatred.

"Overwatch will burn, and you will die along with it," she growled. McCree walked over to his hat and placed it on his head as if he didn't care about the dangerous assassin swearing to kill him.

"Maybe so," he nodded, "but I'll still be better off than you sweetheart. Now are you gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?" he asked pulling out Overwatch handcuffs.

Suddenly her grappling hook shot out at his feet and he was knocked flat on his back. A second grappling hook shot out of the window and she zipped off into the distance. McCree slowly got up and snapped his fingers in defeat, "damn, she's a slippery one," then he looked around at the damage done in the room.

The giant window was completely destroyed, computer monitors were riddled with bullet holes, not to mention assault rifle shells littered everywhere on the ground. McCree whistled, "I do not envy our janitor…" he shook his head.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day news was buzzing about him in headquarters. Everyone had seen the video footage of McCree saving their defense systems from Widowmaker, and while some still held prejudices against him everyone admitted that he had done a pretty good job. McCree heard the whispers of his name said with more of an upbeat and respected tone. Overall it made him strut through the halls a little more confidently, with no less swagger of course.

He entered Winston's lab with a cocky smile on his face. "Hey there big guy," he greeted to a hunched over Winston. Winston sat up from his microscope and nodded in approval.

"Hi there Jesse, I saw what you did the other night. Very good work," he congratulated.

McCree waved a hand "it was nothing, just following orders like you said," he grinned. He then pulled out the usb drive and tossed it on Winston's desk.

"Thought you might want that, might have something useful on it," he said with a shrug. Winston picked it up delicately between his giant fingers and inspected the skull on the side.

"It's possible, but Talon is known for covering up their tracks. Anyway I have something I'd like to ask you," Winston's voice grew serious. McCree didn't expect that response, "well okay then, ask away big guy," he said. Winston put the usb down and looked McCree in the eye, "so… last night you said that you realized something?" he asked.

McCree smiled and gave a little chuckle.

"That's right, why I even bother," he nodded.

Winston scratched his chin; "uh… would you care to explain?" he raised an eyebrow. McCree nodded, "explain why I bother trying to get y'all to trust me? Sure thing," with that he took off his hat and looked at the ground.

"It's because I've always just been chasing the wind with no point to it. For the longest time I was fine with that, I had myself to look out for and nobody else. I had nothing to lose, and there was no point to anything I ever did… that is 'til now," he put his hat back on and looked Winston in the eye.

"Now that I'm with Overwatch I have a reason. I have something worth fighting for, something worth dying for, and something worth protecting." He tipped his hat with a grin and turned away, "after all big guy, justice ain't gonna dispense itself."


End file.
